


Play The Odds (in Our Favor)

by QuillFeathers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Cute, FYI Spin the Bottle doesn’t actually happen, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 10:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillFeathers/pseuds/QuillFeathers
Summary: “All right, I'll admit it. Ferdinand is correct,” he offers with a wave, which does get Caspar to stop his roving, “Besides Spin the Bottle being completely ridiculous to begin with, I don't want to play because the odds of the bottle landing on the person I'd least mind kissing are not in my favor.”Linhardt's conditions for playing Spin the Bottle are simple: two participants.(written for casphardt week 2019   Day 5: realization)
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 17
Kudos: 165





	Play The Odds (in Our Favor)

**Author's Note:**

> This was truly a silly idea but I’m very happy with how it turned out. Enjoy!

Linhardt knows who is at his door just from the way the doorknob turns: spinning as if the hand turning it had almost shot past, missing its mark in its eagerness. Caspar bursts into the room like he always does, a forecasted whirlwind intent on scattering Linhardt's plans for the evening.

“Linhardt!” punctuated with the flourishing of an empty bottle of wine, “I know you're going to say no, but do you want to play Spin the Bottle?”

Not so sincerely intent then, although he does appreciate the thought, and as he often does Linhardt just asks the question on his mind without thinking about how others would interpret so he drawls: “You and I?”

And if a smidgen of hope infiltrates his voice, well...

But Caspar just laughs. “You and I and a bunch of others! Ignatz said maybe, Annette...I'm pretty sure Dorothea is going to try and drag Bernadetta out of her room...I bet you've never played before, have you?”

No, Linhardt has not, but now he's going to be stuck wondering if newly-turned seventeen year old Caspar _has_. He finally looks up from the book he’d been thumbing through.

“Your educated guess is correct, but thank you for asking,” is what he says out loud, “I'm afraid I don't really like the odds.”

“Odds of what?” Caspar wonders from the door he'd been halfway back out of. 

“Randomization is just not my idea of fun. You know I won't put any effort into something like that.”

“I know I know,” and he really is so sincere when he tries to involve him in socializing, “but like I said, I wasn't not going to ask anyway. See ya!”

The door clicks closed (not slams, because Caspar knows Linhardt doesn't approve of that), and he goes back to his book but can't immediately get his eyes to focus.

_At least not with just anyone._ is what he had wanted to add—to imply. 

The situation is this: Linhardt clearly has a crush, and he's lost count of how many times he's tried to imply so. Caspar, who is friendly and honest and enthusiastic with almost everyone, sometimes seems to be in the same predicament. The quandary, then, is this: Linhardt is worried (he will not say scared, thank you) over the notion of unintentionally altering their relationship if he is incorrect in his hypothesis of Caspar reciprocating...feelings, and thus so far has always found himself too nervous to take the chance of point-blank saying it. _It_ being clarification of feelings (fondness) here.

In a well-practiced motion the healer falls to his side on the bed, arm holding his spot in the book as it slides to the sheets somewhere around his knees. Lo and behold, Caspar is no longer even in his presence and he's still succeeding in scattering his thoughts. How annoying. A nap would clear his head.

His eyes have barely drifted closed, however, when the sound of running feet reaches his ears, making him sit back up, and now he shuts the book entirely. It's not that the pattern of the footfalls is particularly alarming, it's just that he recognizes them as much as he recognized the twist of the doorknob followed by the burst of blue hair.

“Lin!” thrown through the door before it's even opened, Caspar following in an earnest rush.

“Yes?” Linhardt inquires, elbows going to rest on his knees, legs crossed.

There's a thunk as Caspar brandishes the still-present empty bottle as if it were an extra limb, knocking it on the door-frame, but luckily it doesn't break. “Ferdinand says you don't want to play Spin the Bottle because you _fancy_ someone!” his friend wails, voice pitched but eyes narrowed as if Linhardt has been conspiring against him.

Well...that is a bit true, to a point. That detail is not what makes Linhardt chuckle, though, a crooked smile forming on his face. “You asked _Ferdinand_ to play Spin the Bottle?”

Caspar shuts the door, another thunk resounding as he plants the bottle on the desk in the corner. “This isn't funny! And I just...ran into him so I figured why not, just like I had with you,” huffed out as he crosses his arms, (and despite himself Linhardt's lips twitch a bit at that). “I told him to give me a good reason like you did and then told him what you said and then he...” and here Caspar steps forward, bending at the waist with his hands on his hips and glaring like an insulted Aunt, “...how could you not tell me you like someone, Lin!”

Linhardt wonders if Caspar has ever wondered why he is the only one who Linhardt seeks out almost on a daily basis, or if he's noticed that he is the only person allowed to barge into his room without then being spitefully brushed off. The brawler is not an idiot but he is also not the most observant or analytical thinker. A foil to himself, to be sure, which is why all the hints he's tried to give have bounced off. Reaching up, Linhardt stretches his arms above his head while Caspar starts to pace the room, muttering under his breath.

Maybe now that the topic is at the forefront of his mind...

“All right, I'll admit it. Ferdinand is correct,” he offers with a wave, which does get Caspar to stop his roving. “Besides Spin the Bottle being completely ridiculous to begin with, I don't want to play because the odds of the bottle landing on the person I'd least mind kissing are not in my favor.”

“That's fine, that's fine,” the admittance waved off, the specific answer much more important, “but you gotta tell me who. Tell meee. Please?”

The pleading voice and pout make him smirk, and Linhardt is feeling quite resolute in this (_It_) happening, so he scoots to the edge of the bed, intent. “Tell you what. Come back with a list of names of who is going to play and I'll let you guess who it is from that.”

The proposal earns a frown. “Ugh, that will take forever. How long a list will I need, geez.”

“Come now, you can narrow it down based on those we mutually associate with. It won't be that difficult.” He hums again in thought though, because he is feeling impatient and it would take much too long and be much too tedious to go through a list now that he's thought about it a bit more, so with a little intake of breath (yes, and there goes his heart rate) this time around he does add—“I actually told you the acceptable number already. You'd be able to figure it out very quickly with _that_ list.”

Caspar goes from serious to grinning like a madman in a heartbeat; listening with an impatient tap of his foot to back to the thrown-open door in a second, barely remembering to grab the bottle on the desk and “Be back soon!” hollered over his shoulder as he takes off down the hallway.

Linhardt amusedly notices that he conveniently left the door wide open this time and waits, counting seconds in his head.

Caspar is not an idiot. Sometimes the rational side of his mind just needed a little extra time to catch up to his challenge-loving, insistently-courageous, endearingly-honest, overly-caring—

A loud noise from down the hall that is most certainly the sound of the wine bottle dropping to the floor.

A familiar rhythm of running footsteps flying back to the doorway.

A shock of blue hair obscuring his vision as Linhardt is tackled backwards, back hitting the mattress and pure giddy laughter ringing in his ears.

—side.

“You said me and you!” is heaved out somewhere around his collarbone, strong arms squeezing him tightly to a sturdy chest.

“Technically I said 'you and I',” he manages, voice gone all funny even to his own ears. He had not exactly thought that the result of this would be a bed full of Caspar.

“Saints, Lin!” Caspar exclaims, letting go to raise himself up on his hands. “How many people were you going to make me ask about if, if...”

Linhardt was not prepared for this at all it seems because Caspar's voice dwindles into silence and he's starting to blush and his flushed skin is a beautiful contrast to his hair and his splendid aquamarine eyes stand out even more and Linhardt is blushing too judging by how hot his face is and—

“I should have told you how pretty you are like, one hundred times by now. Sorry I'm so dense.” Caspar finishes, but it's not sad or hesitant and he smiles brilliantly, fingers reaching to brush a strand of hair away from Linhardt’s cheek.

“I could have...should have, just told you how I feel,” quietly admitted in return, one slender hand reaching up in turn to curl around a bicep.

“Lin,” a pause, blue eyes glinting, “What's the probability that you'd want me to kiss you?”

Linhardt swallows (pretty, huh), heartbeat thundering in his ears, but if his voice quavers it is not due to being worried. “You should definitely take the chance.”

Caspar does bend down to lightly press their lips together; both of them sighing with all the satisfaction of having received results worth waiting for, but it's over much too soon. Caspar pulls away, and when Linhardt opens his eyes he has that madman-grin on his face.

“The odds you'd like another?”

Laughter bounces off the walls of the room again, but this time it's Linhardt's. It really was that easy, wasn't it?

“Oh Caspar, they are positively _stacked_ in your favor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lin’s door is 100% open at the end, yep.
> 
> Thanks for reading this fluffy nonsense.
> 
> twitter: [@o3QuillFeathers](https://twitter.com/o3QuillFeathers)


End file.
